


Snowed in Treadmill

by Starbuck09256



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 21:17:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20346877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbuck09256/pseuds/Starbuck09256
Summary: Scully is a little self conscious after her abduction about her body, she is trying to get back in shape and Mulder wants to help her see how beautiful she is.





	Snowed in Treadmill

**Author's Note:**

> This is a season 2 fluff piece, it is nsfw. I thought about how Scully might have felt after her abduction in season 2, having had no control over her body for so many months. Mostly also because I think through the series she gains a love of running. I’m trying to find my own love of running (btw it’s not working out so well, chocolate loves me more and doesn’t ask questions or make me feel like I’m dying). But I can now somewhat run a solid 2 almost 3 minutes which you guys might scoff at but I’m a bigger lady so I’m still impressed with myself. Anyway on with the Fic

The harshness of the bedside table lamp makes you groan out loud. Struggling with the sheets that are tangled in your legs and the stuffiness of sleep that still clings to your eyelids. This is the plan Dana, you were missing for 3 months, and apparently they didn’t bother to exercise your joints and muscles very well during that time. You packed on weight you hadn’t seen since high school. Hours of driving and diners adding to your plight. So now in the middle of nowhere with a snow storm outside you trek out of the warm cocoon that your body fell into a frightful sleep in the night before. You shuffle around at 5:45 looking for a sports bra and some megar looking leggings and those tennis shoes that have specks of random peoples blood in the crevices. You pack lightly normally, a few years of struggling with oversized luggage and wobbling looking wheels and more forms than your expanded 1040 in lost luggage convince you that everywhere there is a laundromat, and anything other than 2 clean suits and a few shirts are unnecessary. Why bother bringing jeans and hoping for a moment to wander around lost small town fronts that haven’t aged since the 70s. Looking out of place is the new norm for you. You know you will look the most out of place at the rundown gym with a treadmill that was probably a hamster wheel in a previous life. You checked it out through the window last night giving yourself a goal of running at least 15 minutes. Even though you know it will probably be peppered with moments where you stand on the edge and let the track race by as a fit of frustration attacks your lungs. You think of Mulders long legs barely fitting and yet he is still so graceful even though he loathes the thought of not running outside. Running clears his head and allows room for flights of fancy. While to you it’s always seemed more of a chore. You wished you loved running like he did. A nice brisk walk was always preferred but the results were meager. You got into running to solve a love of chocolate and wine where the repercussions of that affair showed its residence on your thighs and stomach. You struggle with the sports bra not sure how to get your boobs to stay put and not look like one cyclops mass on your chest. Even with not large breasts sports bras still tend to look horrid. You’re good friend was a DD in college her love of wine and chocolate put yours to shame and she would always complain about her breast bouncing around like a pinata with 30 7 years olds striking at once. You envied those breast, like Mulder envies the ones in those magazines. Although both of you know that the miracles of modern medicine and plastic surgery are to blame. You never really had time to worry about your appearance, stuck reading medical journals, volunteering and internships to guarantee a good MCAT and college choices ruled your life for years. But still weight was always something you worried about. Seeing friends with higher bmis cutting meals into the tiniest of pieces and trying to eat each bite as slow as possible as if they could convince themselves that a forkful of broccoli was a plate full of tasty pasta. You tried to make sure and eat healthy, you loved being outside on the water with snacks that ranged from grapes and carrots to spritzers and cool water running down your throat, like the ocean water seems to run in your veins. With 4 siblings and 2 boys you never really had a chance for 2nd or thirds. Not that you minded, your mother's food was good nutritious and filling. But now through no fault of your own you feel bloated and fatigued easily. You know that your body has been through hell and you are once more asking it to be the strong, dependable, fit and eager mass it was before. Before you were taken, before you were subjected to god knows what. Before you were able to run for 30 minutes and feel free and spry. Now as you tie the laces together sigh to yourself that you know you can do this, have done it and will do it. Because you are Dana Scully, and no one is going to take away the freedom that you feel when Mulder looks at you like that. You’ve seen the look he gives those women in the photos. Felt his gaze upon you in the not so partnerly way, and you reveled in it. He hides it well, never objectifying you, and while you know you are attractive and have always been somehow someway with him it’s different than with anyone else. You want his gaze to fall on you more, you want to be the one he looks at and admires. You want to not worry or care about a hot new blonde detective or a busty brunette stealing his attention from your petite form that fits so perfectly with his. You roll your neck getting out the kinks and stretching just a bit before grabbing the hotel key that will let you into a rudimentary gym with a dozen dumbbells and the dreaded elliptical. You may hate the treadmill but the elliptical is the work of satan. You struggle with your door trying to pull it close with the strong gust of wind at your back. As you finally wrestle it close you think how just that small 30 second fight with a heavy door and 20 mile an hour winds should be worth a solid 100 calories in itself. You start to trudge through the wind in your tiny sneakers and thin hoodie. When you are just about to reach the gym door a dark figure emerges through the snow. “Hey Scully wait up,” you hear his voice carrying through the wind and snow as it swirls around you. Even though it’s snowing and you’ve only been outside for a few minutes, you can feel the numbness of your fingers, taste the ice crystals forming on your lips. “Scully what are you doing out here?” You turn and in the early morning haze with flushed cheeks you gesture to the door as it would clearly explain why you a rational person would still try to workout even if it meant walking a 100 feet in a snowstorm. But Mulder doesn’t give you a chance to really respond he is thrusting forward a cup of hot coffee and you can steam coming through the small lid on the top. “Scully come back inside with me,” you look at the treadmill with it’s outdated belt and missing string and you think of the time you were barely asleep on his shoulder and he gave you that look like you were the sexiest person alive. But you let him lead you away, even though you want to cry that you got up for nothing and practically crawled through the snow to prove your dedication to a machine that gives you blisters and bad moods. He pulls you into his room which was only 2 doors down from yours. “I heard your alarm this morning going off, Scully we barely went to bed by 2 what are you even doing awake?” You struggle to move you mouth against the warm air that isn’t mixing right with the frozen parts of your face. “It’s nothing Mulder, I just wanted to get a run in before we shoveled out the car and went to the station.” You mutter looking down at your coffee with anger seeping into your breath. Angry that you let him deter you from your goal, angry at yourself for letting him. Angry that you just want a candy bar and to lie back down. “Scully you hate running on treadmills, and mostly you hate running.” Your gaze reaches up to his and although your eyes are crystal clear with the warm light of the room, your gaze sends out chills. “I might not enjoy it like you do, but it is an excellent source of exercise with a large number of benefits, from increased respiratory function, to overall muscle and joint endurance.” He stands up and walks over to you in the chair and gets down right in front of you. His fingers slowly brush yours as he takes away the warm coffee in your hand setting it down on the table next to you. You don’t want to meet his eyes tell him that you are feeling so self conscious of how you look, of the weight you feel is in all the wrong places. How you felt a little winded running to the gate with him yesterday afternoon. He reaches up brushing a small strand away from your face his eyes meet yours and suddenly you see it, that same look. The look that makes you gasp his name in your sheets at home with your fingers in between your legs. You envision that look when you pick out which shirt to wear. Even though you chide yourself for thinking of him. But this look of hunger and appreciation is so captivating you aren’t sure if you can move. He bites his lip slightly and just the brush of teeth and lips about make you moan. He shallows hard and asks in a lower tone than you are use too “Are you worried about your umm... endurance?” he eyes sheepishly reach yours once more and you can’t help but widen yours in surprise. No no you aren’t worried about that kind of endurance. He sees your reaction and you wonder if he will chuckle or laugh this off as one of his flirty not serious passes. But he doesn’t his eyes are clear his tongue darts out and licks his lips as he sees the tighter than should be leggings and your little tennis shoes. You should go, you should laugh and ask him if he can keep up with you, that your endurance in that arena is just fine even if it has been awhile. Just so you can both laugh and roll eyes at how ludicrous it would be if you spend this snowstorm in his bed cradled in his hips as you used your legs and thighs to squeeze him into perfect oblivion. An important thing to note about medical books concerning nutrition and exercise. Sex doesn’t actually burn that many calories, but it does burn more than going back to sleep, which if she is honest is what she would do if she left here. Plus it is actually really good for your immunity. Being as she was just in the hospital with a shattered immunity system, having sex with Mulder would be more beneficial than freezing to death on the way to the crappy little gym. As if to settle this entire debate that she is having in her mind. Mulder reaches up cupping her cheek and says softly. “The treadmill in there is broken, I think we should test your endurance using a different method.” You watch as his lips get closer to yours. “Are you sure we are testing my endurance?” you whisper a breath away from his lips as he smiles. “Oh Scully I think we should spend the whole morning testing both our endurance, in multiple ways.” You can’t help but grin. You lean forward slightly brushing your lips against his in a slight tease. “I think we will need to have multiple sample times to compare, don’t you?” your voice is rough in anticipation. He nods and cups both your cheeks before sliding his lips firmly against yours

Hours later as he cradles you in his arms stroking your sides, “You’re so very beautiful Scully, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen or had the privilege to know.” Before the last few hours you would have scoffed, thought that he was saying that to make you feel better, even if you still ended up ordering a boring salad with grilled chicken and a tablespoon of balsamic. You don’t feel that way now, you feel worshipped and so very loved, every single inch, scar, extra little bit of fat has had Mulders love pour into it. You want to lighten the mood, so you say “You just love me for my mind,” he laughs as he starts to kiss all the spots that make you tingle that he seems to find so quickly. “Smart is sexy.” he mutters as he captures your nipple in his mouth.


End file.
